Running with the Truth

Sixteen and already an expert at avoidance. That was me, running from everything that mattered. I'd perfected the art of disappearing into bathroom stalls during lunch, running through the halls with my head down like I was late for something important when really I was just late for being a person.

The rumors started Friday. Jasmine Rivera, the girl who'd been my lab partner since seventh grade, the one with hair the color of sunset and a laugh that made my stomach do gymnastics — apparently she liked me back. The whole school was talking about it. And instead of being happy, I was freaking out.

"That's such bull," I told my best friend Marcus as we sat on my front porch Saturday. He was petting my cat Mango, who purred like he understood everything.

"What's bull about it?" Marcus asked. "She's gorgeous. You're gorgeous. It's a match made in high school heaven."

I shook my head. "It's not that simple. What if she gets to know me and realizes I'm boring? What if I mess everything up? What if—" I stopped. Mango nudged my hand with his orange face, demanding attention.

Monday arrived too soon. I was running late, naturally, backpack bouncing against my spine as I sprinted toward first period. And there she was. Jasmine. Standing at her locker with her friends, wearing that oversized orange hoodie she always wore.

Our eyes met. Something electric passed between us, like static on a winter morning. My heart sprinted ahead of me, running laps in my chest.

"Hey," she said. "I heard you've been avoiding me."

Heat rushed to my face. "I wasn't—"

"It's okay if you don't like me back," she said, her voice steady but her fingers twisting her locker combination. "I just... I thought we had something."

I looked at her, really looked at her, and realized something important. I wasn't running away from her. I was running away from being seen, from being vulnerable, from the possibility of getting hurt. But that's what made us human, right?

"I do like you back," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I was just scared."

Jasmine smiled, and it was like watching the sun rise. "Good. Because I was about to give up on you."

Mango would've been proud. I finally stopped running, and started living.